Heart Strings
by celesticbliss
Summary: In a canon but very different Hunger Games universe, Katniss has a love of music and an urge to feel anything outside the realm of her normal broken life. Fic written for FAGE7


_**FAGE 007**_

_**Title: Heart Strings**_

_**Written for: Cullensgirl89**_

_**Written By: Kyndall/Celesticbliss**_

_**Rating: T**_

_**Summary/Prompt used: Loosely based on Teardrops on My Guitar by Taylor Swift**_

_**If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this exchange visit the facebook group: **__**Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps, or add the C2 to get all the stories direct to your inbox.**_

_** community/FAGE-007/93625/**_

_._

_I fake a smile so he won't see_

_That I want and I'm needing everything that we should be._

_._

_And there he goes, so perfectly,_

_The kind of flawless I wish I could be_

_._

_._

The familiar pitter-patter of the rain on my window brought me out of a sleepy haze. I knew it wasn't what initially woke me; the warm body next to mine in my too small twin sized mattress was turned away from me, but I knew she was awake. I stayed quiet for a while, listened to her breathing even out, the lingering sobs turning into whimpers, then finally gone altogether. I didn't need to see her to know that the sadness in her eyes wasn't gone. It never was. I raised a hand and fingered the frayed end of her simple French braid.

"When did she come in?" I asked finally, ready to confront the long day I knew I had ahead of me. She was usually pretty collected when it came to dealing with our mom after a particularly difficult night but once in a while, she needed to let out her emotions.

She shrugged and turned over on her back, revealing the tear stains on her cheeks. My almost-black heart broke a little more, as it did every rare day like this. I wished I could just leave, but I knew I couldn't leave her… My kind-hearted baby sister. The only person in the world who could convince me to stay.

Things weren't always like this… like remembering a dream the few moments after waking up I could see our mother. Bright and warm, dancing around the living room to the beat of her own drum. To me, she was impertinent to the rules of a "normal mom". She scoffed at the other parents, so prim and proper and looked for ways to break out of the ordinary with me and Prim; My little sister with my dad's eyes.

When Dad came home from work, tired and worn thin, his exhaustion was only spotted for a moment because when my mother kissed him hello it was like she breathed life back into him. Her vivacious appetite for life was absolutely contagious. What we didn't realize then, was that he was breathing life right back into her. Because that day… that miserable day the mines collapsed? My dad didn't come home. He died and took the life right out of my mother with him. After that, her life consisted of an overwhelming silence and a bottle of whatever numbing vice she could obtain. I assumed the only way she felt warm anymore, was that sickening ember from the alcohol.

"Come on," I nudged Prim and fixed on the best smile I could muster for her, "let's get you ready for school?" I ended the prompt with a question so she didn't feel like she was losing control of her own morning.

She sighed, got up and headed to the shower.

Our small house once felt quaint. Lived in, but not really messy. All the small imperfections made it our own. The loose door frames sparked witty banter between my parents. My mom playfully nagging dad to fix them, dad eventually trying to teach his girls how to use a hammer correctly when he got around to his honey-do list. Now the list is never-ending as the house splinters and falls apart around us. I fixed what I could, with whatever measly amount of money left from my small paychecks and my best friend was handy with a toolbox, he did what he could. Dad had a decent amount of life insurance but after the years it was wearing thin. My mom was practically a ghost that came and went into mine and Prims life. She ate like a bird but her drinking still ate up our dwindling funds.

When I heard the shower turn on, I made my way to the living room to see what damage I needed to clean up before Prim was out. My mother was in her usual spot; Dad's recliner facing the fireplace. She was passed out, her clothes and breath reeked of , this sight would have made me sad. I would've weeped for her and seen the pain on her face as she enveloped herself in my dads memory. But I couldn't find the energy to care anymore. If I did, I'd end up just like her. A soulless shell; death by grief.

She had another all-nighter from the looks of it. Since the accident, she seemed to glide through the air. Never made a noise, barely made her presence known. If not for us, her existence would have ceased to the world around her. I wasn't even mad at her. I dealt with her like you'd deal with a stray dog in the yard. I left food out and checked in once in a while but that was as far as my involvement went.

Prim was another story. She talked to her every moment she could. She read to her, got her to shower and once got her to eat more than a few bites. Mom never said a word. She checked out a long time ago. Prim was a nurturer by heart and believed with everything in her that she could save mom. Bring her back. Save her. Once in a while the overwhelming silence became too much for Prim. Those were the nights she snuck into my room. Needing some sort of solace I guess.

But that was it. That was our life. Prim going to school by day, trying to save moms stray soul by night. I went to work and kept the wheels of our miserable life turning. What choice did I have?

.

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"You're late." Mr. Cray muttered with coffee breath when I passed him to clock in. "Sorry." I mumbled back, not caring enough to make eye contact. I worked my ass off for him, and I'd be damned if he was going to give me a hard time over five minutes. His wife, Sae, was a lot more understanding. I usually avoided her gruff husband but since they ran the Hob Flea Market together, he wasn't completely avoidable.

I did brighten up slightly when I got to see Gale. I'd known the guy since we were kids and he was my closest friend. His dad was best friends with my dad and worked in the mines with him. He never came home that day either, but his mom was still alive in all senses of the word. She spent more time than she should have trying to reach out to my mom but like most of us she had to move on.

Gale was a big guy, tall and solid. Most of the time he spent carrying out large items for customers, helping them load and tie down their merchandise.

I was a jack-of-all trades there. I filled in wherever I was needed and I had a knack for selling and a pretty encompassing knowledge of a lot of random enough things. I could fake it well enough where I didn't. I checked the schedule and smiled when I saw that I'd be doing deliveries with Gale all day. Those were my favorite days, all day with my best friend, getting a momentary escape of the mundane. We got to drive all over our small state, which wasn't far but that didn't affect my sweet feeling of freedom when I crossed that county line.

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"What's on the list today?" I asked Gale, even though I could just read the list he handed me when I found him at the box truck tying down an antique rocking chair.

"A few around town, and a piano to take over to a music shop about thirty minutes up county line," He grunted between pulls on the furniture straps, "You know, you sure have a knack for showing up just as soon as the hard part is finished." He chided with a wink and lowered the door of the truck before locking it in place.

"It's a gift!" I laughed back and hopped into the passenger seat.

Gale and I tried to date. Several times in fact. We both felt like we should be together, for as much as we are already, well, together. But we never quite clicked; like dating a second cousin I suppose. We do live in West Virginia, but not all stereotypes ring true around here. After the last time we were still in highschool and we pinky promised to never cross that line again. Our friendship to each other was valuable and neither of us wanted to risk it again.

It didn't take us long to find our groove while working. Making our stops around town short and sweet with Gale unloading their deliveries and me enjoying the busywork of hello's and signatures. Soon enough we headed two towns over to drop off the piano to what Gale had told me was a new shop that specialized in old instruments and hard to find music memorabilia. I was secretly thrilled for this stop. I didn't mention anything to Gale because I knew he'd be all too eager tease me about it but I loved music. I was addicted to the feeling it gave me when a good note seemed to coat my skin with gooseflesh. I got my affinity for music from my parents but I never learned how to play any instruments. Never did much singing, but I felt like I was pretty okay at it. Though Prim was my only critic, and she might be a bit bias.

The shop was tucked into the corner of a long established shopping strip. You'd miss it if they hadn't had a placard sitting out on the sidewalk with the words "Grand Opening Soon!" painted on. Gale drove the truck around back and found the coinciding door. I was a little bummed to find out that the store wasn't technically opened yet. I didn't have a lot of free time so I doubted I'd be able to get back there anytime soon.

I walked around to the front to try to find the owner while Gale dealt with backing the truck to the delivery door. The windows were clear, but the shop was dark. I could see an arrangement of instruments lining the display window, ready to be taken to homes and played again or for the very first time. A particularly gorgeous guitar caught my glance, and I couldn't look away. It looked like it was from cherry wood, with a subtle floral design etched into it. I wasn't sure if it was an antique or not, my knowledge on guitars was limited, but it was beautiful. My fingers ached to touch it. To learn how to make music with it.

"She's a beauty, huh?" an amused voice came from behind me, "You should hear her sing…"

I turned to find a boy. Well, not technically a boy, he was probably close to my age or even older but his features were so soft and gentle I immediately felt like he was young. He was still looking in the window at the guitar, paying no mind to my staring. He had a solid build attached to that soft face, and very pale blonde hair. He was the polar opposite of the kind of man you'd find walking around in my mining town and that observation alone intrigued me. I wasn't a romantic at heart, but something about this boy made mine flutter and made me want to know him.

"She might be 200 years old but she's young at heart." He said with a smile, still musing about the beautiful guitar. He broke his stare and finally turned his blue eyes onto me.

"Sorry if you were coming to shop, but if you come back next weekend that's when we have our grand opening." He said, the smile still fixed into place and gesturing toward the sign we'd passed earlier.

"Oh!" I said surprised, "Is this your shop?" I had a hard time imagining this boy owning a store, but mentally kicked myself at the thought. There was more to life outside my bubble, as hard as that was to imagine sometimes.

He nodded and puffed his chest a little. I could tell he was proud of himself, in a completely endearing, non egotistical type of way. I didn't even know him but in that moment even I felt proud of him as well.

"I'm here with the Hob Flea Market? We're delivering your piano today," I said, rustling through the papers on my clipboard, "Mr. Mellark?"

He laughed "Not to sound completely cliché, but Mr. Mellark was my father. I'm Peeta," He held his hand out to me in greeting, "Yes, like the bread, my parents were bakers and really into the literal."

I laughed back and shook his hand. "Katniss. My mom had an affliction toward herbology apparently." He smiled and gave my hand a gentle squeeze, "And suddenly so do I, Katniss."

My first urge to know him more amplified. Something about him made everything else in my world blur just a little. Just enough.

After getting the necessary signatures, we walked through the store toward the delivery area. I kept my pace up with his but let my eyes wander. Schedule be damned, I'd find my way back there somehow.

Peeta had no problems rolling up his sleeves and helping Gale unload the piano. Gale was only slightly annoyed with me for taking so much of his time talking about guitars instead of letting him know why we were there. He caught my stare lingering on Peeta more than once and that fact didn't escape him on our drive home later that day either. Once Gale and I decided we weren't suited romantically, he took on role of big brother very seriously.

While Gale helped Peeta arrange the piece in the right spot, I wandered through the shop. I ached to run my fingers over the different keys and strings on the arrangement of instruments. making it my mission to learn how to play something one day, I continued my self tour. If I tried hard enough, I could still hear the plucks of my dads banjo that he would only take out after a few too many beers. On a particular nostalgic day I could hear my mom softly singing along to the tune he played, followed by her laughter. I raised my hand to gently touch the strings of the guitar I was admiring from the window.

"Do you play?" I heard Peeta ask softly behind me, as if he were trying not to startle me out of my memories he had no way of knowing I was lost in. I shook my head and retracted my hand quickly; embarrassed to be caught.

"All set?" I asked, changing the subject. He nodded in reply, my eyes scanned the store looking for Gale. I caught a glimpse of him holding up five fingers, signaling that he'd wait for me outside and not to take too long.

"I could teach you, you know…" Peeta said with a dip of his head in the direction of the guitar. My heart sped up, suddenly uncomfortable with my proximity to this near stranger. I needed to get out more, I deduced. Too much time in my small town and my heart flutters at the attention of some music shop owner. "I used to teach music lessons at the middle school down the road, I'm not a bad teacher if I do say so myself." He nudged my arm playfully.

"Oh jeeze, I wish I had the time…" I replied quickly, suddenly eager to get out of there. The longer I stayed, the more out of place I realized I was. As endearing and intriguing as Peeta Mellark was, I had no room in my fractured life for him to fit in.

"Thank you though, " I offered him a smile and my hand which he took and gave a soft shake. His eyes searched mine; trying to figure me out. "I should be going, more deliveries and all that."

His eyes searched mine, like he was looking for a sign of...something.

Finally he only nodded and gave me his card, holding my hand in the exchange a moment longer than necessary. "If you change your mind, call me, Katniss." My name left his lips in a tone barely above a whisper. The sound lingered in my head the rest of the day, into my dreams.

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The weeks after Mellark's Music dragged on. He didn't shake easily from my mind but antique season was in full swing so between work and home, I hardly had a chance to sort through whatever feelings he'd invoked in me. Prim's junior year of school had come to a close which meant she was back to volunteering as a technician aide at our local clinic. She'd rather be at home keeping a watchful eye on mom but I couldn't stomach her spending her summers in that shack watching someone who didn't want to be saved.

Always helping someone, that girl. On the rare days there was any work to spare at the HOB, Sae threw the hours to Prim.

We were both at the market, helping out with the food trucks on the day Sae and Cray could be heard in a screaming match with two men in suits with a red paper in their hand. We had front row seats when my bosses lost their world, and the rest of us lost our jobs.

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"I just don't get it… Without any notice they can do this?" I asked Gale, three days after the Hob Flea Market was shut down for breaking some sort of business code I didn't understand. Sae swore she'd get it sorted and we'd be back at work in no time, but swears and good intentions didn't pay the bills.

Gale shrugged and threw a stone into the pond we were sitting at the banks on. "Guess so." he mumbled. Both luckily and not so luckily for him, he'd managed to grab a position in the mines. Money was good but his mom was a wreck. I didn't blame her, I wasn't so hip on the idea of him working in the same place that took our fathers away from us. The clinic helped out and created a housekeeping position for Prim to fill for the summer but it wasn't much. I needed work, and I needed it soon.

"What about that music store?" Gale asked while thumbing a piece of grass he'd plucked from between his feet.

"What about it, Gale?" I retorted shortly, assuming he was trying to pick on me for my little crush on Peeta once again.

"I mean, you can sing and stuff. Why not work there?" He asked sincerely. I mentally chastised myself for being so sour with him.

I tossed the idea around my head for a moment, but it fell flat after a moment. "How would I get there?" Gale hadn't thought that far ahead. Having a vehicle was never a luxury I could easily afford. I sighed, laid back onto the grass and shut my eyes. I admitted to myself only that the idea was really nice. Dressing in normal non-greased clothes, thumbing through old records on my breaks and maybe even working up the courage to touch that beautiful guitar. Peeta as a boss didn't sound half bad either if it meant I got to know him better.

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"Happy Birthday Katniss!" Prim and Gale exclaimed in unison on a particularly muggy morning in July. The day my life began was something I used to look forward to celebrating once. I tended to view my day of birth as mostly a marker of time going by since nothing but my age seemed to change. But not Prim, that ever illuminating girl that kept my world on its axis. She was a pro at scouting the silver lining and no holiday went unnoticed in her book. Mom was tucked in her bed already, any evidence of her drinking or bingeing was already cleaned up and disposed of. Prim had been up for a while… Happy birthday to me indeed.

She used brown paper bags to make hats and had prepared a pancake breakfast. Gale leaned back in the kitchen chair and plopped his work boot on the table earning a dirty look from Prim the proper girl. He grinned slyly and pulled his foot off and placed it beneath the table where it belonged.

"Aw, guys…" I said sheepishly taking a seat at the table and spotting a half melted candle sticking out of my pancakes. Prim placed a hat on my mop of hair and took her seat beside me. Not much made it past my barricade but these two knew how to hit me right in the heart.

"Don't get all mushy on me now, Katniss. I'm just here for the pancakes," Gale said through a mouthful, shooting a brotherly wink at Prim who was nudging my plate with candle burning down toward me "Oh, and to give you this." He slid a plain white envelope toward me.

I smiled at Prim, made a generic wish to win the lottery and blew out my candle eager to see what was in the ominous envelope. Trying not to look too eager, I took a bite out of my breakfast first before I picked it up and carefully tore the top.

"Before you get all proud on me, remember I did something nice for you." Gale said with a pointed look as I unfolded the two pieces of paper he'd neatly folded. One was a photocopy of something. It took me a few moments to understand that it was a bus pass. A bus pass that held all of my information.

Confused, I set the first paper down and looked over the second to see that it was a job application. It too was already complete with my personal details.

"Now, I was able to fill out most of it for you and Prim helped me with the rest," I glanced up at her ignoring Gale for the moment to see her smiling and searching my face carefully for a reaction.

I was still a little confused until I saw where the application came from. Across the top in bold script were the words Mellark's Music. The application, the bus pass… Gale all but paved the way for me to work there. I didn't have any words and I was too caught up in my own swirling emotions to realize that Gale was still talking.

"... I work close to home, so if there's any problems Prim can just call me. I already talked to the guy and he's expecting you in tomorrow. Pretty sure the application was just a formality since he seemed pretty eager to see you again and since it's your birthday and all I won't even go into detail about how creepy I think that is but- the bus pass is all prepaid for the next few months and-" I cut off Gale's incredibly long and rambling monologue by launching myself out of my chair and into his arms.

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I spent my first bus ride to Mellark's music gnawing on my lip so anxiously that I tasted blood by the time I got to my stop. His shop was a short walk from where the bus dropped me so I had little time to smooth out my nerves before I was walking into a bustling shop. The scene was a drastic change from the one I saw days before his opening. An array of different sounds confronted me as I walked through the doors. There was a base sound of whatever record Peeta had playing in the background overlaid with customers sampling instruments and the dull drone of chatter.

Every set of eyes I met while scanning the place for my new boss was paired with a genuine smile. Other than the expected summer heat, the shop felt warm. My nerves soothed themselves and my life outside of this place began to blur again. I immediately felt at home.

I found Peeta helping a mother and daughter pick out a keyboard. I caught his eye and waved, he smiled and motioned for me to wait for him in his office.

I sat and tugged at an imaginary thread on my pants while waiting for Peeta.

_Mr. Mellark?_

I added another thing to be anxious about to my ever growing list. I needed to be amazing at this job. I wasn't sure why he was so eager to help me after only speaking once but I wasn't the type to look a gift horse in the mouth. However this opportunity came to be, I'd be sure to show my appreciation through my hard work. Which is exactly what I told Peeta- he scoffed once again at my Mr. Mellark approach- when he asked me how I felt about working there.

"Here's the thing, Katniss," He replied when I asked why he hired me so easily. " I barely know what I'm doing. My parents died a few years ago and left me this place." He said with a swing of his arm showcasing the store.

"I enjoy cooking and baking enough, but not enough to save an already floundering bakery. I had to make a change, or lose everything completely."

I nodded, attempting to show empathy for a situation I couldn't understand fully.

"Something about you, Katniss," he said pausing to make sincere eye contact. Sincere enough to make my heart leap into my throat. "You remind me of me three years ago. Something in your eyes is screaming for help while your mouth will never say the same."

I opened lips to protest, uncomfortable with his spot on impression of me without knowing me at all but he held up his hand to stop me.

"I could be very wrong, but in any case I want you to come work here. Another thing I recognize in your eyes is an eagerness to be a part of this world and I need an employee that has that eagerness and passion. Hopefully someone who will help keep me in line as well?" He ended his sentence in a question, prompting me to either agree or bolt. Needless to say, I agreed. As inappropriate as his deduction on my life was, I couldn't argue with him.

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..

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My days working at the shop were long, but not nearly long enough. If not for a pesky bus schedule I could easily spend hours there long after my shift ended. My hours were during the peak times of business, so Peeta and I rarely had moments alone; that which I was a little thankful for. The few times we were alone together, the tension thickened by the second. I felt like a moth to his flame and my body ached for the numbing calmness he caused when we were close. All my senses tuned to him while letting everything else fade away.

During our lunch breaks we took turns telling our stories. I focused on things like Prim, Gale and school while omitting anything too deep about my mother and my life since my father died. I've never been ashamed of my life before; but Peeta seemed to be so together that I didn't want him to see any more cracks in my façade than he already did.

Peeta told me about his parents before their car accident. One thing that made me admire him was that he didn't glorify them. He told me honestly that he was very close with his mother but tended to butt heads with his father. He told me that he loved them but he loved himself too. He grieved and moved on, and felt like living an enriched life was the best way to honor them. When Peeta spoke, I often felt the urge to pull out a notebook and take notes. I wondered how he chose his words. Like he was carefully picking out ones that would resonate with me the most.

One particularly rainy afternoon in late August, Peeta found me in our normal lunch spot, though this time he wasn't holding his usual brown paper bag. He was holding a small acoustic guitar. One of the beginners we sold in the shop.

"Here." he said distractedly, handing it to me and immediately walking out the door. I choked down my dry sandwich and held the stringed instrument awkwardly, staring at the door he disappeared into.

He popped back in, holding another guitar.

"I'm teaching you. Get comfortable." He sat on top of his desk, facing me in my chair and did just that. Began to teach me, and so went our lunch breaks from then on out. Peeta had a bit of a habit of directing our friendship without a look backwards. For only being months older than me, he seemed decades ahead spiritually.

Needless to say, I had a crush on my boss. One that grew almost immeasurably after he began teaching me to play. Every brush of his fingers against mine while he spoke only of tones and chord progression made my heart thud so loud I had a hard time paying attention to what he was teaching me. I felt like a girl with a school crush on the popular musician who was just too cool to notice anyones affection. Which was funny because Peeta offered both a sweet numbness from life while invigorated so much emotion in me simultaneously. All feelings crashed into the ground beneath my feet the moment I sat on the bus and went back to my purgatory.

Prim started school again, and kept up her part-time job when she had time. Slowly I was able to convince her to work more and worry about mom less. It killed me to be so heartless about my mother, but after so many years… I didn't know how Prim still found it in herself to care without going completely insane. Maybe it's because she doesn't have her own Prim to worry about. If I kept on trying to bring my mom out of her drunken coma, I'd end up joining her there and my soulful baby sister would have two walking skeletons to look after. That was a fate I swore I'd never meet.

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..

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When winter blew its inevitable breath of ice and snow business at the shop slowed considerably. A few of the other employees left for more lucrative work and hours, but even if the Hob was up and running again, my hours would have been worse there as they usually were in the dead of winter. Often I hung around the shop for hours after my shift ended just to pass time since Prim's hours at the clinic seemed to pick up as mine dwindled. She seemed to have found a home away from home in that clinic.

I understood the feeling.

She often came home to tell me stories from work with a tone of excitement that I not only understood, but I loved seeing it within her. She still spent a considerable about of time taking care of Mom when she was home but she didn't seem to feel so sad about it anymore.

"Depression is just a sickness, Katniss. We just need to keep her going. She'll come back." She said to me matter-of-factly one night after a we found mom all but frozen to death on our porch stoop. She cared for her mechanically, and it was then that I realized that Prim checked out on mom emotionally too. But she still found a way to care for her.

Her job at the clinic was affecting her more than I initially thought. The idea of Prim some day wearing scrubs and helping people every day seemed to natural that I was surprised I'd never seen that glimpse of the future before. She was so calm and collected even when she held moms hair as she threw up her strictly whiskey diet.

My mother was fading away even more. We both saw it but neither of us dared to say the words out loud. We couldn't get her to a doctor but after research on our own we knew that her liver couldn't last forever with the daily abuse. On more than one occasion as the winter became relentless we found her asleep on the porch, nearly frozen to death.

It became harder every day to get her inside and cleaned up. Even harder to get any food of substance in her stomach.

For weeks I was terrified to come home from work, not knowing what state I'd find her in.

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Prim was calm the day she called the store to tell me my mother was dead.

Everything after the moment Prim said the words "She's gone, Katniss. She's really, actually gone."

I forgot how to speak, and even if I knew how Prim didn't give me a chance to talk. She told me about how Mom was gone a long time ago, and I shouldn't feel guilty. If I were a better sister, I would have heard the slight shiver in Prim's voice as she explained to me how the police found my mother near the railroad tracks early that morning.

When we couldn't find her that morning, we had no choice but to inform the police and Gale- then try to continue on with our days as best we could. The moment I heard the phone ring, I knew.

I hung up the phone and walked out of Peeta's office straight into Gale's arms. He clung to me, but my arms hung lifelessly at my sides. "I came as fast as I could." He whispered and held me tightly expecting me to fall apart at any second. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" he said over and over.

I caught a glimpse of a concerned Peeta, and it felt like an icy dagger penetrated my barricade of numbing shock. Somehow my infatuation with him and this store morphed into pure guilt. In the worst way possible, I was being shown how incredibly selfish I'd been toward my mother.

Gale walked me out to his truck, helped me into the passenger seat and drove into the snowstorm to get me home.

We rushed to the hospital in silence; the only thing keeping me grounded to earth was Gale's hand squeezing my own. The snow hit the windshield at such speed that I imagined that was what it looked like in space. I knew we were going fast because of how the snow looked in front of us, but I still felt like we were in a moment frozen in time.

Gale parked and I found the doctor only for him to tell me everything Prim had already told me. Mom died in the cold with a blood alcohol level that ensured me of one thing- she didn't feel a thing. I found Prim sitting calmly in a waiting room, grasping a cold cup of tea. When our eyes locked, every feeling we'd both kept at bay came rushing to the surface. When she fell into my arms, I fell back into hers.

The next several days afterwards passed in rapid waves, with dull drags intermittently between. After leaving the hospital neither Prim nor I knew what to do with ourselves. We didn't know what to say, or what we were supposed to do next. Gale left us to check in at home with a promise to return as soon as he was able; and when he did, he came with an array of food from his mother.

_What was it with people suddenly feeling the need to cook for people who are sad?_

That night when we finally felt tired enough to sleep, Prim didn't even try to start in her own room. She followed me into my bed and cried on my shoulder while I sang softly with a cracking voice until we both slept.

.

The funeral was a small affair. My mothers circle of friends was thin, most of the attendees were people there just to show respect for my family. Like Prim and I, they all mourned the loss of my mother a long time before her death. The town preacher held a pretty service; Prim sniffled softly next to me and Gale sat still at stone on my other side. He'd been as amazing as expected through the entire process, and I thanked the stars for having such a friend. A small part of me wanted to be angry with him for pushing me to work for Peeta and encouraging such a silly infatuation but those feelings faded away quickly. Everything he's ever done was just to be a good friend. I didn't know what it was like to have a brother, but I knew what it was to have a Gale. It was close enough, maybe even better.

As tradition would suggest, most of the guests joined us in our home after the burial. Not that we needed another casserole in the fridge, everyone seemed to think we would somehow forget to feed ourselves without my mother here. I wanted to scream at everyone and ask how they thought we'd survived so far but I knew it wouldn't be fair. Grief is a fickle thing, and I knew better than to try to understand how people dealt with it individually.

When timing allowed me, I escaped outside and away from the sea of black dresses and condolences. Prim was always so much better than I when it came with dealing with people. Paired with Gale, they made quit the polite duo and I trusted them to properly ween the crowd down so Prim and I could figure out what we were supposed to do next.

I sat on the back porch stoop and welcomed the bitter bite of winter to envelop me. Luckily, our house was passed down to my parents from my late paternal grandparents so there wouldn't be any banks knocking on our door for mortgage payments. Aside from the mountain of repairs that needed to happen, at least we had a somewhat stable roof over our heads for now. I knew whatever money was left from my dad's life insurance was essentially gone but that wasn't anything new. Prim and I had kept the house running on our paychecks alone and I didn't doubt we could keep going but I struggled to find a reason for us to stay there.

I pushed the thoughts out of my head. Problems to think about another day.

"You must be freezing." A soft voice helped bring me back into the present. I looked up and saw a face I never wanted to see in this world. Let alone at my house.

"Peeta, hey…" I instantly realized that it'd been days since I left my job without a backwards glance and didn't so much as call to let him know what happened or that I wouldn't be coming in. I put my face in my cold hands. "I'm so sorry."

He sat next to me on the cracked stoop and put his jacket over my shoulders.

"What could you possibly be sorry about, Katniss?"

His voice was so soft. It made me feel warm.

"Gale told me what happened. I'm so sorry," he said and tentatively put his arm around my shoulders. Without thought, I leaned into him; craving the solace.

"He also called and told me your address. I hope that's okay… I really wanted to see that you were okay."

I nodded into his shoulder, lacking the energy to shield him from the entire truth of my life anymore.

"Thank you for coming." I said simply, putting as much emotion as I could muster into my sincere thanks.

He tightened his grip, kissed my forehead and didn't say another word. We sat together in the cold until everyone except Gale and Prim had finally gone.

After that day, Peeta became as permanent in my life as my sister and my best friend. I was relieved that he seemed to know all of me after that, though I think he always somehow knew more than he let on.

.

..

.

**Christmas Day**

"Now close your eyes." Peeta said from behind me, his hands cupping my arms at my sides, giving them a loving squeeze. I could hear the smile in his voice. We'd grown closer since the funeral and though we didn't have any actual labels of what we were to each other, I think we both liked the idea of it remaining unsaid.

I complied and shut my eyes with a smile on my lips. Moments later I felt a familiar weight on my lap. I couldn't wait for him to ask me to, I opened my eyes and my mouth fell open. Peeta knelt in front of me looking very proud of himself, and in my lap was the very guitar that I stared at through the window the first time I went to Mellark's Music.

Gale sat on the fireplace grinning and rolling his eyes. Prim practically squealed with delight at my surprise.

"She was meant to be yours all along." Peeta said and handed me a pick. Our lessons were good, but I still doubted I was good enough to even be allowed to play something so beautiful.

Words left me, and the only way I could think to show Peeta how much he, and his gift, meant to me was to put all of those words into my lips and press them against his.

"You're welcome," he whispered against my mouth when we finally pulled apart after Gale threw a pillow at us.

Prim laughed hushed him and for the first time in too long, my broken home didn't feel entirely broken anymore. I glanced at the picture of my parents on the mantle and felt at ease. I wasn't sure I believed in an afterlife but if there was one to have then I believed my mother's soul was finally released to join my father there. The ache of grief would probably never leave my gut, but at that moment it felt dull.

Prim teased Gale about a girl named Johanna that he'd been seeing over the last month. Peeta went to check on the dinner he begged us to let him make. I closed my eyes and imagined my parents kissing under the mistletoe that my dad kept in his back pocket to hold over his head every time my mom was particularly annoyed with him. I enjoyed the chatter of the ones I loved the most surrounding me, and sent a silent vow of love to my parents who I hoped were somehow together and close by.

I sat up straight, held the guitar in position and strummed a Christmas song.

_Someday soon, we all will be together_

_if the fates allow_

_So hang a shining star upon the highest bough._

_And have yourself a merry little Christmas now._

End.

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><p>Authors Note: I am truly sorry if this story seemed rough, it has been quite awhile since I've written anything. Your prompts somehow inspired a story that is quite different than what you were probably expecting, and I hope that's okay. I enjoyed writing this for you!<p> 


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